


The Heir of Erebor

by stardreamer



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Families of Choice, M/M, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardreamer/pseuds/stardreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin is dead and Fili is King Under the Mountain. But there's this problem...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to MollyC for beta-reading.  
> Since my basic premise is already way off-canon, I didn't quibble about importing a few concepts from other fantasy universes.  
> Yes, I know Tolkien called his humans Men. But I've been reading SF too long to feel comfortable with that.  
> There's porn in here, and some of it is fairly explicit, but it's a very small part of the overall story. Also, the F/K is mostly implied/offscreen, sorry.  
> You can blame aeternium for this. Her brilliant story "Bright Blue City Lights" crossbred in my brain with "Dwarves take only one mate" and "How would that work out if Fili and Kili were bond-mates?", and this is the result.

The first time Kelinda meets Kili, he's limping across the battlefield searching for his brother. She is errand-running for the Healers, guiding the less-seriously-injured to the stations, signaling for help with those who can't move, and occasionally administering the mercy-stroke when there is clearly no hope left. Her hands and clothes are bloody, and she's going to have a whacking great bruise on her upper left arm where an Orc that had been left for dead turned out to be not quite there yet; he is now. 

She recognizes the Dwarf – everyone knows the members of Thorin's Company, and even in battle-gear this one is distinctive. Not only is he injured, but his companions will be worried about him. She scurries over. "M'lord Kili, you're hurt. Please let me take you to the Healers." 

"I have to find Fili! We were separated in the battle, and I can't find him!" 

"I've seen him – he was injured, and is at one of the Healer stations. I'll take you there. He'll be the better off for knowing you live." 

The flare of relief and hope in his brown eyes is intense. Kelinda moves around to his injured side and wraps her arm around his waist to provide support; she's short for a Human woman, and therefore not much taller than he. He slides his hand up to brace on her shoulder, and they move slowly across the field, back to the station where she remembers seeing the blond Dwarf. When they get there, Kili pulls loose to throw himself into his brother's arms; there's a matching expression of relief on Fili's bandaged face. The Healers surge forward, and Kelinda turns to go back out. Seeing the two of them together has reminded her, more strongly than usual, of how much she misses her late husband. She finds herself thinking, _Fili is lucky._

***

It takes a while for things to get sorted out. Thorin not having survived the battle, Fili is now King Under the Mountain, but Kili is his strong right arm – sometimes literally at first, as Fili took a stroke during the fighting that's slow to heal. The Dwarves labor to rebuild Erebor, both physically and as a political entity. Kili sits in on most of the political councils, listening but taking no active part unless Fili needs backup. His job, as he sees it, is to support his brother, and anyone who doesn't like that can go jump off the Mountain.

Balin is the one who dares to broach the sensitive topic, "Lads, you need to take some thought for the long term," he says one night after dinner, when the Company is relaxing in private. Thorin's loss still feels like a missing tooth, but at least the rest of them can comfort each other. "You know we'll all back you right down the line, but the folk are going to want to see an Heir sooner or later." 

Kili starts up in indignation, but Fili lays a soothing hand on his arm. "I've been thinking about that," he says. "I had wondered if we couldn't perhaps adopt a youngling of Dain's line and raise him up to it." 

Balin frowns. "Not a good idea. It's fine to say that all Dwarves are of one Folk, but Dain has his own kingdom and his blood belongs there. Other people might get big eyes, if you know what I mean." 

"Yes, well. There's an obvious problem with either of _us_ trying to produce an Heir." 

"And there's an obvious solution – a half-blood. There's precedent for that." 

"You mean like Borin, with an Elf?" Kili perks up, thinking of Tauriel; Fili elbows him sharply in the ribs. 

"I don't think a half-Elf prince would go over as well now as it did in Borin's day. Too many people are still of Thorin's mind," Balin says. "But the Humans – they fought at our side and shed their blood for us. You could do worse than to look among them for a Consort." 

Fili sighs. "I'll consider it. In my copious spare time."

***

Two weeks later, during the weekly Open Court, Kili looks over from his position beside Fili's throne and sees a face he recognizes among the Humans. It takes him a few minutes to remember the context; it's the woman who brought him across the battlefield to Fili's side. And now that he thinks about it, he's pretty sure he's seen her in Open Court before.

So he starts looking. She comes every week, sitting near the edge of the Human section. She never has a petition, never approaches the throne, and at the end of Court she leaves. But she's there every week, sitting, watching. 

Watching _him._

Most of the Humans barely notice him; they're all focused on the King, and rightly so. But this woman spares Fili only the occasional glance; either she's paying attention to what the petitioners are saying, or she's looking straight at him. It feels... odd. 

He mentions it to Fili, late one night as they're preparing for bed. "Do you remember the woman who brought me over to the Healer station?" 

"Not to speak of. Why?" 

"She's been showing up at Open Court. Every week for at least a month, maybe more before I noticed. And she sits there and watches me." 

"And why should she not? You're well worth watching, brother mine." Fili is amused, teasing, but there's a familiar gleam in his eyes, and Kili feels his own body warming in response. 

"I just wonder what she wants." 

"To look at you, silly." Fili pauses, thinking. "It might be worth the effort to further your acquaintance with her. But don't be obvious about it." He gives Kili a meaningful glance. No more needs to be said.

*** 

Kili goes down to the city on Market Day – not that there aren't merchants open every day, but once a week during the growing season all the local farmers set up stalls in the Great Square, and everyone comes out to buy fresh produce. He finds a tavern near the main entrance, settles himself at an outside table, and orders a large mug of ale and a larger meal. This gives him an excuse to stay there and watch the people passing by, and sure enough, eventually he sees her. He's in luck – she's on his side of the street, and will be walking right past him.

"Mistress Healer!" He half-rises, raising his arm to catch her eye. 

She turns toward him, and her eyes shine with startled delight. Only for a moment – she bows, blinks, and it's gone – but he's seen it, and now feels on surer ground. And he has his approach already prepared. 

"M'lord Kili, it's good to see you out and about," she says. "But I'm no Healer – I was just helping out that day. Because it was necessary." 

"I don't believe I ever thanked you properly for reuniting me with my brother." 

She smiles. "You had other things to think about. I took it as meant." 

"Nonetheless, I was remiss. Will you join me for a while?" He gestures toward her loaded shopping-baskets. "You appear to have shopped to some purpose; I'm sure your feet hurt." 

"I'll admit a chance to sit would be welcome." She joins him, orders cider and stew, and makes only a polite demurral before allowing him to pay for it. 

She's easy to talk to, and Kili steers the conversation to find out things he needs to know. Her name, he discovers, is Kelinda; she's a widow, comfortably placed, no children. Also, she's intelligent and curious – she takes advantage of the conversation to ask him some very astute questions about local politics, and shows rather more awareness of Dwarf customs than he's used to seeing from Humans who don't regularly deal with his people. 

When they're finished eating, he offers to carry her shopping for her; after a moment of hesitation, she lets him. At her door, he can see her mentally debating the propriety of inviting him inside, and solves the problem by setting the baskets down and bowing politely. 

"I've enjoyed talking with you, Mistress Kelinda. Perhaps I will see you again at the market." 

"Perhaps. Thank you for the food, m'lord, and for helping with the baskets." After a moment, she adds, "It was a very pleasant conversation." She turns to unlock the door, and Kili takes his leave. 

That night, his preliminary report to Fili is positive. "She's pleasant and intelligent, and her personal situation seems favorable. I'll see about meeting up with her again next week." But his eyes are shadowed. 

"What troubles you, Kee?" 

"It seems... dishonest. As though I'm pretending to court her – and you were right, there's definitely some interest on her side – when it's all really on your behalf. Dishonest and unfair." 

"And an unpleasant position to put you in as well," Fili sympathizes. "You've brought me her name; let me follow up on this for a bit. If she's a suitable candidate, then we can pour out our stone-pouch, and if not... then you can pursue it as a friendship, if you wish."

*** 

Kelinda is happy, but confused. If Kili were a Human man, she would know exactly what was going on, but he's not. She did enjoy talking with him – for once, someone she finds appealing has not lost that appeal on closer acquaintance – but she's heard the rumors, and whether or not they're true, she can't imagine that he would actually be interested in a Human woman. Dwarves just don't do that. Especially not handsome Dwarf Princes with intense brown eyes.

She'll probably never see him again, except when she goes up to Open Court, and that may be just as well. And if she does... well, she'll deal with that if and when it happens.

***

The one thing that moves faster than an angry dragon is gossip. Two days later, Fili has a full report on Mistress Kelinda, and he's pleased. "From a practical standpoint, this could hardly be better. She's independent, with few family ties and those not in this area – she moved here with her husband, but then he died of the winter fever. Left her enough to live comfortably, but she's shown no interest in any other man since then, and believe me, there have been plenty who tried. She works with the Healers at need, but isn't one herself, and she seems to get along well with everyone. Well, except a few of the men she's turned down, but you know how that goes."

"What do they say about her not having children?" 

"That it's a shame she lost her husband after such a short time – she's been widowed longer than she was married. It seems to have been a love match, and her parents didn't entirely approve because he was much older. That may be why they moved here, and why she hasn't gone back." 

"So there's no reason to think she might be barren." 

"No – there's even one report that she was with child when her husband died and lost it in grief, although it's only one and that could be exaggeration. But at the bottom of the pit, there's really nothing holding her in the city." 

Kili rises, coming over to embrace his brother. "I understand the need for an Heir, but I wish you didn't have to install her as a true Consort." 

Fili meets his eyes unflinchingly. "Jealous, Kee? Don't be – you are my One, and nothing can change that. But you were right about being dishonest, and I will not offer a Consort less than an honest bargain. She will have to understand about us, and you will have to accept her as an equal partner. This means that I have to trust you to win her trust. Can you do that, for the sake of Erebor? For my sake?" 

He's never been able to resist anything his brother asks. "I can do that."

***

At the next Open Court, Kili ventures a smile in Kelinda's direction, and gets one in return. And on the next Market Day, he makes his way down to the city again, and the scenario repeats itself. It settles into a pattern – they eat and talk (after the first time, she gently but firmly insists on paying her own way), and then he carries her baskets home. Kili doesn't flirt, and she doesn't seem to expect it, and that makes him much more comfortable.

Over the course of a month or two, he finds that he genuinely likes her. She's no Tauriel – there's no sense of could-have-been about his feelings – but he thinks about being uncle to her child by Fili, and realizes that it would make him proud. Once or twice he thinks about being father to a child of hers, but he suppresses that notion immediately.

***

There's a new gamester in town, and the word gets back to Kelinda quickly via her network of inn and tavern servants. He moves from inn to inn, never staying in one place long enough for his antics to catch up with him. Her eyes glitter. This is going to be like old times with Karl.

On Market Day, she finds the gamester ensconced at the tavern where she's been meeting with Kili. She sits and observes for a while. Today he's chosen to take on all comers at Hare-and-Hounds, and he's pretty good – but Kelinda is better. Furthermore, she recognizes the hedge-magick tricks he's using to "enhance" his play, and knows the counters for them. 

At the end of a game, as the defeated townboy is rising to leave, she steps in and drops her coin on the table. The gamester looks up, and she smiles winsomely. 

"Fancy a game, little lady?" 

"If you would be so kind. My late husband and I used to play, and since his death I've scarcely had the pleasure." 

The first game is nothing but fun. At a couple of points Kelinda is hard-put to keep from giggling; he's determined to throw the game to her, and she's almost equally determined to throw it to him. She lets him let her win, but modestly, and gives a little trill of laughter, and places another coin. He suggests upping the stakes; she agrees, and calls for drinks for them both. 

Several games later, things have turned more challenging. Kelinda is playing him very evenly, not allowing the coins to pile up on either side of the table, and he hasn't yet tried to magick her. But he's drunk considerably more than she has – in no small part because the serving-maid is part of her network, and has been watering her drinks – and she can tell that his patience is wearing thin. She looks at the time-glass behind the bar, making sure he sees the glance. "One more to pay for all?" 

This time it's deadly serious; the gamester has put up a tall stack of coins, and Kelinda matches it unhesitatingly. She looks entirely focused on the game, but in fact she's also guarding against his magicks – of which he tries several. She's hoping that he'll get careless enough to slip and be noticed, but no such luck, and in the end she wins the game, fairly, by a sizable margin. 

As she reaches to gather in the stake, the gamester surges out of his chair, red-faced and furious. _"Cheat! Whore!"_ He draws back his hand to strike at her. 

_**"HOLD!"**_

The volume, as much as the command, shocks everyone into immobility. Kelinda has never heard a full-throated Dwarf roar before, but she knows instantly who it must be. 

Kili steps forward, inserting himself protectively in front of her, and confronts the gamester. "Have you any proof of that accusation?" he asks, in a voice gone deadly cold. 

The gamester begins to bluster. Kelinda has no patience for this. 

"He's a fine one to talk about cheats," she says, pitching her voice to carry. "He tried to magick me three times during that last game. Check his pockets – you'll find spellstones." 

The man tries to bolt, only to be seized by several of the spectators – their last few games have drawn quite an audience. Including, very conveniently, a couple of Guardsmen, who take him in hand when the spellstones are found. 

Kelinda finds herself at the center of a congratulatory crowd. She gathers up her winnings, hands the serving-maid a generous tip, and drops a handful of coins on the bar. "A round for the house, if you please!" 

This gives the crowd something else to focus on, and she turns to Kili. "I'm going to sneak away. Will you walk with me?" 

"Of course, Mistress." His voice is full of admiration. 

They slip casually out the door, but instead of turning straight for home, Kelinda steps into the alley next to the inn. A few minutes later the serving-maid comes out, and a stack of coin changes hands. Then they walk unhurriedly down the street. 

"Thank you for that timely intervention," she says quietly.

"As if I would have let him start a brawl with anyone, let alone you." Kili cocks his head, his expression full of curiosity. "Where did you learn to play like that? I was watching for a couple of games, and _I_ wouldn't want to play you for money!" 

She laughs. "Karl – my late husband – got the money to start his business by playing all comers at Faires. He could play all the common betting-games, and he taught me how... and how to spot a cheater. He always said that as a rule of thumb, someone at a Faire was likely to be using skill alone, because there are always Guardsmen within a few steps there – but one who sets up in a tavern is probably either cheating or counting on getting his opponents drunk. This one seems to have been doing a little of both." 

"And the serving-maid?" 

"I have an agreement with the servers at several of the major inns and taverns. They let me know when they have a gamester setting up, and they get a cut of the take. The innkeepers turn a blind eye, because they know it's not good for business to have a swindle running in their common-rooms, and this way _they_ don't have to bestir themselves. Also, she was watering my drinks." 

Kili actually snorts with laughter, shaking his head. "You think of everything, don't you?" 

Kelinda shrugs. "It's something useful that I can do. Like helping the Healers in emergencies." 

At the door, he bows. "Mistress Kelinda, I have a proposition to put to you, but I don't believe this is the time to discuss it. May I call on you tomorrow morning?" 

She looks at him, surprised and a little uncertain. "Of course." And they part company, precisely as usual. 

Except that this is definitely not "as usual". All of Kelinda's earlier confusion comes rushing back. She thought that they had established a casual friendship, which she cherishes because it gives her something interesting to look forward to in a life that is otherwise frequently dull. And it certainly doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous; sometimes she thinks she could fall into those dark eyes and drown. But now he has a "proposition" for her? That could be any number of things, some of them much better than others. She shivers, and isn't sure whether it's with apprehension or desire. 

Eventually she shakes off the mood and goes to prepare her dinner. There's one less swindler in the city, there's a little more money in her emergency fund, and she'll think about tomorrow when it gets here.

***

In their bedchamber, Kili is laughing uproariously. "You should have seen her, Fee – she looks at him as if she's never seen a gem in her life, and then plays like a fox. Cleaned him out and caught him cheating at the same time. _And_ she'd arranged with the barmaid to water her drinks!"

Fili's laughter blends with his own; if there's one thing Dwarves appreciate, it's a good biter-bit story. "How's that going, then?" 

"The more we talk, the better I like her. And she wants to be useful – it's something she's mentioned several times, describing the things she does. I think... I think she didn't expect to lose her husband so soon, even though he was considerably older. And now that he's gone, she's been feeling rather lost; he left her comfortable enough that she hasn't _had_ to marry again, and she hasn't yet found a new purpose that suits her. I'm going to ask her tomorrow." 

Fili draws him close. "Good luck." And nothing more is said – at least not in words – for a long time. 

***

When the knock sounds on her door, Kelinda is ready. There are breakfast things, a pot of tea, and two cups ready on the table in the front parlor, where the morning sun makes things bright and pleasant. She has dressed with some care today – her favorite dark-blue overtunic, which she knows is flattering, and she's wearing her nice strand of green-band with the matching ring, which she usually leaves in the jewel-box. The fluttering in her stomach she can do nothing but try to ignore.

She answers the door, and formality overcomes her tongue before she can stop it. "Come in, m'lord Kili." 

"Mistress Kelinda." He bows, steps inside, looks at her. "That's very fine green-band. I haven't seen you wear that set before." 

"Karl bought it for me, as a wedding-gift. It seems... too fancy for the sort of things I do most days." She's relaxing now, grateful to him for the chance to ease into this conversation, and of course a Dwarf would notice stones. "If you'll step into the parlor, I have refreshments." 

This is the first time Kili has set foot in her home, and he looks around curiously. Kelinda knows she need not be ashamed of her lodging; it's a small building in a street full of similar dwellings all cheek-by-jowl with each other, unpretentious – kitchen and parlor downstairs, two sleeping-rooms upstairs – and well cared-for. Two entire walls of the parlor are lined with bookcases, and there's a comfortable chair in one corner, with a wall-sconce next to it and a side-table holding several books. The dining-table by the front window is only large enough for two; she doesn't do much entertaining. 

They settle in, and she busies herself briefly with the serving of tea. "You said you have... a proposition for me?" 

"Yes. It's going to take some explaining, and I must ask that you keep what we say here – well, not all of it is exactly secret, but none of it should be a topic for casual conversation." 

"You have my word." 

Now he seems unsettled, as if he doesn't quite know where to start. "It may save some time if I first ask what you know of Dwarf inheritance customs and lineages...?" 

"Well, I know that if a Dwarf dies childless, his eldest sister's-son inherits. I know that's how Fili became King Under the Mountain, because you and he are Thorin's sister's children. I know that you are the next in line after him, and that the next after you is King Dain of the Iron Hills, because neither of you have children and you have no sisters. But both you and your brother are still quite young, by Dwarf years." 

"That is true; however, as you note, neither of us has children. Nor are we like to. Are you aware that Dwarves mate-bond for life?" 

"I had heard that," she says, "but I wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe it. Dwarves are a secretive folk, and where curious people can't find out answers, they'll make up some." 

"It is true." There is a long pause. "Fili and I... are mate-bonded. Does that shock you?" 

Kelinda has sat up very straight, and now it's her turn to pause and think. Eventually she shakes her head. "Not... really." She speaks slowly, feeling her way through conclusions that all fell into place at once with his statement. "I have also heard that Dwarf women are relatively few...?" He nods. "...which means that you have a lot of excess men, which means that probably a fair number of them bond with each other." Another nod. "And the Inseparable Brothers are already well on their way to becoming a matter of legend." That wins a wry smile from him. "For Humans, such a relationship within the family would be taboo. Is it different for Dwarves?" 

"It would definitely be taboo for a brother and sister," he says. "Brother-to-brother bondings are... not common, but certainly not unknown, and are viewed differently because there can be no children." 

The connection drops into her brain with a nearly-audible click. "Oh." 

"Yes. Oh." 

"But... couldn't Fili just take a mistress? Or does it have to be a child born within the mate-bond?" 

"Dwarf women _require_ the mate-bond to breed. Without it, they are barren." 

"Oh. Well... could he adopt a child, then? Perhaps one orphaned in the battle, or one of Dain's kin?" 

"We have discussed adopting a child from Dain's line. It would be... politically inadvisable; many of our people would resist the notion, and the child would be a magnet for discontent and rebellion. Much the same would apply to any child not of Thorin's lineage." 

"Then it sounds to me as if you are at an impasse." 

Kili leans forward, and his eyes lock with hers. "There is another solution. Human women breed without bonding. Would you be willing to carry the Heir of Erebor?" 

Kelinda is so startled that she blurts out the first thing that comes into her head. "A Human half-blood? Would that even be acceptable?" 

"There is a precedent." Kili drops into storytelling mode. "Many generations ago, Borin son of Burin was never expected to rule, as he had two older brothers – so no one thought anything of it when he took a male-bond, even though his brothers were yet unmated. But Burin and both of his elder sons were caught in an avalanche while traveling during the winter, and all were killed. Great was the mourning in the Hall, and then Borin found himself on the throne, with no sister and a male-bond. Borin knew, however, that Burin had friends among the Elves, and he sent to them for help. And one of Burin's friends of old, an Elf woman named Liala, came to Borin and bore him a son, and thus his line did not end." 

"So a half-blood is acceptable if there's no other choice," she muses. "I seem to recall hearing that _you_ had an Elf-friend." 

Kili scowls, but then figures out that she's teasing him and relaxes again. "Even if Tauriel were willing, too many of our people still harbor a grudge against the Elves, as Thorin did. Humans... have not betrayed us." 

"Humans don't live as long as Dwarves." 

"Dwarves live longer than Humans." 

"True, that sword cuts both ways." 

Kelinda is out of facile objections and alternate suggestions. She takes a deep breath and asks the question that really matters. "Kili... why _me?_ " 

"For Fili to take a Human Consort, there are conditions which must be met. It cannot be anyone with strong ties, family or otherwise, for this to interfere with – because trust me, it would interfere. It cannot be someone too old, of course, but also not too young. And most importantly, it _must_ be someone with whom we can work well together, and who accepts that Fili and I are bonded. You fit all of these conditions." 

"And if I say no?" 

"Then we will search elsewhere – although I hope that in that case, you and I could still continue as friends; I have come to value your company." 

Kelinda drains and refills her teacup, stalling for time. Her mind is a mad whirl of half-articulated thoughts. This is beyond the wildest suggestions of fantasy that she has ever dared to entertain... and yet there's still a stab of disappointment because he's asking on his brother's behalf, not his own. _I need more information, dammit._

"And if I say yes, what happens then? How much can you tell me?" 

"If you agree, then you will come to one of the Dwarf Courts, where Fili will present you as his choice for Consort and you will be formally adopted into the House of Durin. This will render your children with him legitimate by our law. You will be installed in the Consort's quarters—" 

"Would I be displacing you?" she interrupts. 

"No, I have my own rooms, although I sleep in Fili's room. It would not have been seemly for me to occupy that space, bonded or no." 

"Excuse me, I phrased my question poorly – or rather, did not quite ask everything I meant to ask." She pauses, trying to word this delicately. "How long has it been since you slept anywhere but at his side?" 

"Voluntarily? Never that I can recall. We were very close even as children." He looks away briefly, and then back to meet her eyes. "And there is something else you must know. Because of the mate-bond, Fili and I will both have to be present for any sexual congress. He cannot function without me, nor I without him." 

That's a jolt, although on reflection it seems like a logical extension of the mate-bond. But it's not as disturbing as some of the other things he's saying. Adoption into the Dwarves? Moving into the Mountain? 

"Kili, you're making this sound extremely... permanent. I thought you were just asking to, well, borrow my womb for a while." 

He gives her a puzzled look. "How else would it be, when an Heir is in question?" 

"That Elf woman, Liala – did she stay after the child was born?"

"Liala stayed with Borin until his death, and gave him another son and a daughter, and some of that heritage eventually entered into Thorin's line. Then she returned to her own people." 

_Elves,_ Kelinda thinks, _are immortal – what's a century or two to one of them?_ What _else_ has he not told her because to him it's so obvious as not to be worth mentioning? But perhaps there's an answer to that. "I want two things before I will tell you yea or nay." 

"Ask," he says. 

"First, I want a _full_ description of the duties and responsibilities of the King's Consort. And – I'm sorry – I'll have to have it written in the Common Tongue. And come to think of it, would I be required to learn your language?" 

"I can get you that, although it may take a few days. As to the language... not _required,_ as we are all taught to be fluent in the Common Tongue. But you will probably pick up enough to carry on a conversation about ordinary things, or to leave someone a note. And your second request?" 

"I want a chance to get to know Fili, as I have gotten to know you." 

He frowns. "That will be more difficult to arrange. The King has a busy schedule, as I'm sure you know." 

"Oh, and I suppose the two of you _never_ sneak off into the woods to be alone together for a few days?" She gives him an impish grin. "If I could be included on such an occasion, that would be sufficient. Nothing lets you learn about someone like camping in the woods with them for a day or two." 

Kili bursts into laughter. "Aye, there I'm afraid you have guessed all too well. I will speak to my brother of this." More soberly, "Mistress Kelinda – thank you for hearing me out." 

"You have offered me a great honor. It behooves all of us for me to be absolutely certain before I accept." 

She sees him to the door. For a conversation which has turned her entire life upside-down, it hasn't taken very long. Kelinda doesn't think she'll be going out at all today; she has too much thinking to do.


	2. Chapter 2

"A description of the duties of a Consort? That should be available somewhere in the Archives – I'll ask Ori to find it. As to the other... it's a fair request. Let me carve some time out of the schedule; it's about time we had a day or two for ourselves anyhow," Fili says that evening. "What was your sense of her feelings on the matter?" 

"She was not shocked to hear about us; it may have come as a confirmation of rumor. She seemed cautious, but not necessarily averse to the idea. I don't believe that she is looking for a reason to say no, but she wants to know exactly what is being asked of her. She was surprised when I mentioned the adoption, but that may have been my fault for not making it immediately clear that you were not merely asking for a short-term liaison." Kili frowns. 

"Are you still upset about the need for a Consort?" 

"Well... it would be easier if I did not have to be present. I do like her, but that doesn't mean I want to watch you being with her." 

"I think you have not thought this all the way through yet. You said, and rightly, that it was unfair for you to pretend to court her on my behalf." 

"Yes..." 

"And you said that she appears to have some interest in you." 

"Yes, although she has not made any actual overtures. But I can see it sometimes when she looks at me, especially if she doesn't think I'm noticing." 

"How fair then do you think it would be for her to live with us, wanting you, having you always there when she is with me, but never knowing your touch? And worse, knowing that _I_ have what she wants of you? That is no honest bargain, and she might well come to hate us both in time." 

Kili goes very still. "What are you suggesting?" 

"Is it not obvious? She must be _our_ Consort, in all senses. We are asking a great deal of her; surely we can offer her this in return." 

"But the succession—" 

"Will be as secure if it comes through you as through me. Her children will be _our_ children, and I care not whose is the actual siring. We have always made a good team; let us make her an equal part of it."

***

Later in the week, a package is delivered to Kelinda's door. Opening it, she finds a leather-bound volume, with a bookmark of exquisite silver filigree. There is a folded parchment on top of the book. She opens it, and reads:

 

_To the Most Respected Mistress Kelinda:_

_This is the best information available from our archives in the Common Tongue about the duties of a Consort. I hope that it will be of assistance to you. Regarding your second request, if you can make yourself available a tenday hence for an absence of three days, it has been arranged for you to join Kili and myself on a private expedition. Do not hesitate to tell him of anything you might need in the way of clothing or gear. The bookmark is yours to keep, as a token of my regard and appreciation._

_Fili, King Under the Mountain_

There is an elaborate seal under the signature line. Kelinda runs her fingers over the wax, thinking about the King – the _King!_ – sitting and writing this note to her. She has never thought of herself as the sort of person who would come to the attention of royalty. Then she laughs at herself; after all, Kili is royalty too, although somehow she doesn't think of him that way any more. The only time she's ever seen him act like a person of rank was when he faced down the gamester, and even that was less "Prince" than "Captain". 

Then she picks up the book and takes it to her reading chair. It will be good if she can be done with it in time to return it before the trip.

***

Ten days later, Kili is knocking at her door far too early in the morning. Kelinda is grumpy, having hauled herself out of bed before sunrise in order to be ready. She wrestles her pack and bedroll out of the door, locks it, and turns around – to find herself looking at a fine bay mare, not much larger than a dwarf-pony and perfectly pointed, with beautifully-decorated tack that still looks eminently practical. Her bad mood evaporates in an instant; she's always been a good judge of horses, and this is a remarkable specimen. If Fili has chosen this mount for her, her opinion of him (already favorable) has just gone up several notches.

By the time she's done admiring the mare, Kili has her gear tied behind her saddle and is looking at her with an expression of indulgent amusement. His pony is a bright chestnut with a white blaze and two rear stockings, and an equally fine example of its breed. 

He watches her mount. "Good, you're not a novice. How well do you ride?" 

"I grew up riding, and I traveled with Karl. I'm a little out of practice these days, but as long as we're not going to be ten hours in the saddle, I should be fine. Did your brother choose this horse, or did you? What's her name?" 

"I made some suggestions, but the choice was his. Her name is Sharra. And before you ask, this fine fellow is _Makal_ , which means Copper." He swings into his own saddle. "Now let us go; the idea was for us to be out of the city before people start being out and about." 

The mare's gaits are as sweet as her looks. Kelinda finds herself looking forward to the trip. 

When they meet up with Fili, she's a bit dismayed to discover that a "private expedition" includes an escort of twenty Dwarves armed with swords and axes, plus a brace of archers and a string of pack-ponies. She casts Kili a sour look and mutters, "By the day after we come back, there won't be a Dwarf under the Mountain who doesn't know what's in the wind." 

He shrugs. "There's no help for it. The King _cannot_ ride off into the woods with just his brother like a couple of madcap children, you know that. But on the other hand, if they return with favorable impressions of you, things will be much easier. Provided, of course, that your answer is yes." 

He introduces them formally. Fili manages to bow gracefully even on horseback. "At your service, Mistress Kelinda." 

She returns the gesture to the best of her ability. "And I am at yours, m'lord Fili." 

Kelinda sets aside her discomfort – which, to say truth, is largely due to self-consciousness – and concentrates on the weather, which is lovely, and the company, which is merry. There's a lot of joking around, some of it quite bawdy, but she doesn't mind that as long as it's not directed at her. Kili prompts her to tell the tale of her encounter with the gamester, which is well-received. Fili adds stories from his days in the Blue Mountains. Once or twice some of the guards raise their voices in song, and she experiments with adding wordless harmonies and descants. The time passes quickly. 

This is also the first chance she's had to observe the King closely, and she pays attention, although she's still feeling rather shy about actually talking to him. He's quite attractive, although in a very different way from his brother – golden and regal and leonine with aquamarine-blue eyes. The scar that runs down the left side of his face is more distinguishing than disfiguring, though he was lucky not to have lost the eye, it's that close. She also notes that he doesn't stand much on ceremony, and that the guards all seem to be quite comfortable including him in their raillery. His pony is a very light chestnut, almost golden itself, with four white stockings and a pale-cream mane and tail; they make a visually-stunning pair. 

She supposes many women would think Fili the more attractive of the brothers, but Kelinda's taste has always been for dark-eyed hellions - Karl was dark as a tinker even though his hair was going grey, and the stories about his youth had been one reason for her parents' disapproval of the match. 

When their destination proves to be not a cave or rough shelter, but a stoutly-built stone cabin, she is amused but not really surprised. Although... she estimates the probable interior space, and says, "Isn't this going to be a bit crowded?" 

"Nay, lass," says the guard-captain. "The hall is for the three of you. _We_ sleep outside and keep watch. Can you tell where?" 

Thus prompted, she examines the surroundings closely and discovers three shelters equally spaced around the central building, cleverly concealed inside natural patches of brush. They have canopies of closely-woven rope, overgrown with living vines, and each has an area just in front of it that can be easily cleared to build a fire. "Elven style?" she asks. 

"Aye, indeed," he says. "In Thror's great-granda's day, the Elves traded freely with us, and some of them taught some of us how to build such things. That knowledge has been handed down, though it's rare we need it any more." 

Lunch is casual, sitting on their bedrolls and passing bread, cold sliced meat, and cheese back and forth for handmeals. Two of the pack-ponies have borne small kegs of ale, and someone has brought water from somewhere nearby. Afterwards, Fili bows to her. "Mistress Kelinda, will you walk with me a while?" 

It turns out to be more of a climb than a walk – they seem to be ascending one of the lower slopes of the Mountain, and Fili politely offers his arm for support over some of the rougher patches of the trail – but the view at the end is well worth it, a breathtaking panorama of forest, fields, and the river. There are a couple of well-placed rocks with conspicuously flat surfaces for them to sit on; Fili notices her raised eyebrow and smiles. "This area has long been a retreat for the Kings of Erebor and their guests. We spend our lives working rock; why should we not take a little effort for comfortable seating in such a spot? This is a sight to nourish the spirit – you can see the very bones of the earth from here." 

Once they are seated, he continues more seriously, "You doubtless have questions beyond what you have voiced to Kili. I am at your disposal – you may ask anything here, and it will remain between the two of us." To her surprise, he reaches out to take her hand, holding it between both of his. They are strong and callused, the hands of an artisan, with the "swordsman's ring" of callus around the connection of thumb and forefinger on his right hand as well. "You spoke of us offering you a great honor, but it is also true that we are asking much from you, and we are no less honored that you are willing to consider it. Ask me what you will, that you may be content in the rightness of your choice – whatever that choice proves to be." 

Once again, Kelinda is so flustered that she blurts out the first thing in her head. "What if I were to have a daughter, m'lord?" 

Fili laughs, and part of her mind notes that he has a very nice laugh, warm and pleasant. "I suspect that chance is on our side in that regard, given the proportions of male to female children among my people. And yet, it's a fair question. If your first child should be a daughter, would you be so averse to trying a second time?" 

She blushes bright scarlet; the question has brought up all the ideas and images she's been trying _not_ to think about since Kili mentioned the consequences of the mate-bond. "I... well... I...," she stammers. 

"Your interest in Kili goes beyond mere friendship, does it not?" His voice is gentle. 

"Yes." She's afraid to look at him while telling him that she lusts after his bond-mate. But then he takes her chin in his hand and turns her to face him. There is no anger or jealousy in his eyes, only understanding and sympathy. 

"Do not be ashamed," he says. "How could I, of all people, not understand how it is to look at Kili and desire him?" 

Kelinda can't talk about this, not yet, not to him. She scrambles for a topic to redirect the conversation; maybe she can work up to it. "Can you tell me more about the mate-bond and how it works?"

Fili looks into the distance. "First and foremost, the mate-bond has nothing to do with maturity, either legal or sexual, although of course it cannot happen until sexual maturity has been reached. Unbonded Dwarves who are of age engage in sexual activity as they choose, men and women both. When a Dwarf finds another with whom they are deeply compatible – and by 'compatible', I mean intellectually and emotionally as well as physically – then, and only then, will the mate-bond form. This is called 'finding your One' among my people." 

"What happens if you never find such a person?" 

"Some do not, and go through their lives unmated. Much more rarely, the person with whom one might have mated is bonded already, which leads to... some interesting situations. Some mated couples are willing to include a third person, although that does not give a full bonding. Most commonly in those cases, the third person moves away and lives out their life unmated elsewhere. Finding a second potential mate-bond after such an event is even rarer. The fact that it happens at all suggests that there may be more than one potential mate for an unbonded Dwarf – but once the bond has been fully formed, it is not severed even by the death of the bond-mate." 

"When did you and Kili know that you were bonded, or that you were going to be bonded?" She can feel her cheeks reddening again. 

He smiles, softly, intimately. "I knew from the time I was old enough to understand what bonding meant. I believe it was much the same for Kili. I do not think that any force in the world short of death could have kept it from happening, and for many years we were both grateful that the succession wasn't something _we_ had to worry about." His eyes darken. "We always thought that Thorin would mate and have an Heir, you see..." 

_A distraction, quickly._ "Kili said something about Dwarf women being barren without the mate-bond." Oops, that isn't going to be much of a distraction from the topic of Thorin's children. But it seems to work; Fili shakes his head slightly and the melancholy expression is gone. 

"That's true, and it is why your first suggestion – which was a perfectly logical one, by the way, given what you knew – would not have worked. But it goes beyond that. Once a Dwarf has bonded, even physical desire is impossible without the presence of the mate. So you see, if you agree to become my Consort, you are getting two husbands for the price of one." 

Kelinda nearly chokes. Is Fili actually _teasing_ her? Yes, from the glint in his eyes, it appears so. But still... " _Two_ husbands, m'lord? In all senses of the word?"

Fili gives her a long, slow smile. "Just so. Did you think I would demand exclusive rights? Kili and I have always shared everything; I would gladly share my throne with him if I could. I would love and raise any child of his siring as if it were my own – it needs only to be able to be plausibly claimed as mine. And I would certainly not deny you such a small thing that would make you happier." 

Her head is awhirl from trying to process so much new information. _Be careful what you wish for..._ "I need some time to think, m'lord." 

"Then let us go back to the others. And, please – stop calling me _m'lord_. Under these circumstances, it makes me want to look over my shoulder to see if my uncle is standing there." 

"Very well... Fili." 

When they get back to the camp, they find a bustle of activity. The packs and bedrolls have been distributed into the shelters, a latrine trench has been dug a little distance away, and two of the guards are tending a fire in the cooking-pit next to the cabin. One of them says, "You're back in good time, m'lord. Your brother brought down a deer, and we're just ready to start roasting it." 

Kili appears from around the building, carrying three skewers of meat – the liver and kidneys, Kelinda realizes, diced and strung to cook quickly. It takes only minutes over the flames, and then he is handing one skewer to Fili and another to her. _This is an honor_ , she thinks, _and also a test._ She's never had organ meats before except in a meat-pie, but she takes a bite without hesitating, and her eyes widen in delight. "This is good!" 

"There's just no comparison between straight from the kill and market-bought," Kili says. "Finding that deer so quickly was a stroke of luck." 

Several more guards arrive carrying the skinned, bled-out, and cleaned carcass of the deer, which they thread onto the roasting-spit. Kili snickers, and Kelinda raises an eyebrow curiously. 

"Well, it's funny _now_ ," he says. "While we were making our way here from the Shire, we ran into a group of Trolls, and we all ended up tied in sacks except for the ones who were supposed to be roasted on the spit. But the Trolls had _no_ idea what they were doing, and not only did they not strip their chosen prey, but the spit was far too high above the fire for anyone to be more than slightly singed. Our burglar was able to stall them long enough for Gandalf to split the rock and let the Sun strike them, and they turned to stone." 

"Small thanks to you!" Fili elbows his brother in the side. "Thorin had to _kick_ you to keep you from completely giving away Bilbo's gambit." Kili swats back, and in an instant they are rolling on the ground like two small boys wrestling. 

Kelinda is charmed. The guard-leader chuckles. "Aye, get them away from Court and you'd swear they were no more than thirty," he says. 

"I'm sure it's good for them, to be able to put aside the burdens of ruling for a bit and just be two brothers together," she responds. 

There's a smothered yelp of "Enough!" from the two on the ground. They sit up, dusty and disheveled, with bits of forest detritus tangled in their hair and Fili's beard. "So much for the dignity of the King," Fili says, but his eyes are alight with laughter. 

"Where would you be without me to take you down a notch now and then?" Kili retorts. "You'd grow as old and grey as Balin!" 

"Be respectful, _nadad_. As if Balin can't still beat the copper out of _either_ of us at sword-practice even today. And now your hair is a mess, and so is mine, and _someone_ will have to comb and re-braid it." He looks over at Kelinda. "Would you like to learn how to make Dwarf-braids?" 

That lessoning takes up the remainder of the afternoon. Kelinda is hopeless at the type of fancy braiding Fili uses, although she can render Kili's simpler plaits adequately. She watches the two of them flirting back and forth with each other, finishing each others' sentences, touching and teasing, and is surprised to feel no jealousy whatsoever; instead, she is deeply moved that they would be willing to open their bond enough to enfold her in it, and thanks whatever Gods might be listening that she was found suitable. She will never mean as much to them as they do to each other – but, not being a Dwarf, she won't know what it is that she's missing. 

By the time the deer is done, it is full dark. Plates and utensils have appeared from one of the packs, and there are benches all around the fire-pit. Somewhat to Kelinda's surprise, it is Fili who stands by the spit, carving slices of venison onto everyone's plate and adding tubers roasted in the embers. As she and Kili take their seats, she whispers, "Why is Fili serving the food?" 

"Symbolic. He is the King," Kili says. "It is his duty and his honor to provide food for his people. Others may assist, but the King serves. It's not an ironclad ritual for every meal, but it _must_ be done at formal Court feasts and on sacred days. Beyond that, it is the King's choice." 

Once all have been served, Fili comes over to join them, and everyone gets down to the serious business of eating. There is much bantering and laughter, but it's amazing how much food a large band of Dwarves can put away, and how fast they do so. Kelinda observes that it seems to be acceptable for people to serve themselves seconds (and thirds, and fourths), and she gets up to secure herself a little more venison and another tuber before the bones are picked bare. 

"Are you sure that's enough?" Kili asks. 

"Oh, yes. I'm more used to eating small amounts off and on all day, not large amounts at one sitting." She looks at the gusto that Dwarves bring to the simple physical pleasure of eating and drinking, and finds herself wondering if that extends to other physical pleasures as well. 

As the Dwarves finish eating, they move on to tales and song. Kelinda doesn't understand the songs (which are all in Khuzdul), but she enjoys listening; some of them are lively while others are solemn and moving. A few of the guards have instruments – a flute, a small drum, and something that looks like a miniature hammer and anvil and produces a sound like the working of metal, much louder than she would have expected from its size. It's getting chilly, but Fili and Kili draw close to her on either side, sharing their warmth. The moon rises above the trees, and she yawns – it's been a long day. 

"Are you tired, Mistress? Perhaps we should sleep." 

She jerks awake abruptly, realizing that she has slumped against Fili and his arm is around her waist. "Mmmf... I think so." 

The cabin is decorated simply and comfortably, with a thick rug on the floor and hangings on the walls, their colors glowing richly by lantern-light. There is a table, large enough for four to eat, with chairs around it. One wall contains a fireplace, a fire already well-burning in it. The bed is short but wide, and all three of their bedrolls have been laid out on it. Hers is in the middle. 

She's known this was going to happen as soon as she heard about the sleeping arrangements, so it's easy to say the first part of what she has to say without stammering. "Fili... this is not a good time for experimentation. Unless you would risk getting your Heir without the proper ceremony first." After a moment, she pushes on: "But I don't want to spoil your fun, if the two of you..." That's as much as she can get out, and she's blushing crimson again, dammit. 

"That would be rude," Fili says. 

"And it's not as if there aren't alternatives," adds Kili. 

"Would you like us to show you?" Fili's voice is deep, soft... suggestive. He steps forward, close against her side. 

_The point of no return,_ she thinks. If she says yes to this, it will be nearly impossible to say no to the rest. But if she is to be honest with herself, that decision has already been made – was made, effectively, as soon as Fili said _two husbands._ One more heartbeat of hesitation... "Yes." 

And then Kili is against her other side, both of them embracing her simultaneously. Her lips are inches from Kili's, and she leans down to take him in a deep kiss, her fingers knotting into his dark hair. He tastes of woodsmoke and ale and passion, and if the heat in his eyes is kindled by his brother, at least it's directed at her, and that's real enough. One of Fili's hands is stroking her back, the other is gently undoing the fastenings of her overtunic, and she shivers in a way that has nothing to do with being cold. 

There are a _lot_ of laces and straps and buckles on Dwarf gear. In the end, Fili and Kili spend more time undressing each other than they do undressing her, and she certainly doesn't mind watching the show. As they all get down to chemises and trews, her eyes dart uncertainly toward the window; Fili notices her glance and extinguishes the lantern. When they press against her again, she can feel hard muscle under the thin fabric... as well as the hardness of their erect members. Now Fili is the one who draws her head down for a kiss, and the braids of his moustache brush against her collarbone, and her breath catches. 

"Human women are tall," Kili mutters. 

Fili snorts. "Not as tall as Elf women," he teases back. 

"Go on, then! It's not as if anything _happened..._ " 

"I've heard it said," Kelinda interrupts, "that a difference in height matters much less when people are lying down." 

That makes them both laugh; the remaining clothing is quickly shed, and they move to the large bed. Kili captures her mouth again; Fili's lips and beard are brushing across her shoulder and breast, and their hands stroke the length of her torso and down to her thighs. It has been a very long time since Kelinda has felt any intimate touch save her own, and every nerve ending in her skin seems to be flickering in tune with the dancing glow from the fireplace. 

Her own hands roam freely over their backs and shoulders, playing with dark hair and golden, feeling the battle-scars on their skin. After a while she wants more, and squirms her arms in and down until their cocks fall into her hands, one on each side. Part of her mind notes that they are well-endowed; Karl had been no small man, and they feel little different to her grasp. Kili moans against her neck, and Fili's body jerks involuntarily. 

"Touch me," she whispers, and Fili's hand slips between her legs; two of his fingers slide deep inside her, and his thumb rubs against the nub above. Both of them begin rutting against her body, sliding themselves back and forth in her eager hands as their lips continue to explore her throat, shoulders, and breasts. All too quickly her own arousal crests and she cries out, her body thrashing between them as she spasms around Fili's fingers. In almost the same moment they climax as well, biting down on her shoulders in near-unison as their seed spurts across her skin. Kelinda is limp with afterglow, and they collapse on either side of her. 

"Mine," Fili says in a deep, possessive rumble. 

"Ours," Kili amends. 

"Yours," Kelinda agrees, her voice rough with the remnants of passion. "Both of you. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kelinda's mare is an Estonian Native Horse, or the Middle-earth equivalent. The Dwarves ride Welsh ponies.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning light brings her back to slow consciousness. She is cuddled next to Kili, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her arm across his waist; behind her, Fili's body is wrapped around her own, his hand gently cupping her breast, and apparently one or the other has fetched a cloak sometime during the night to spread over all three of them. She stirs, starts to stretch, and winces as her shoulder complains. Fili stirs in turn, brushes her hair aside to look, and makes a rueful sound. 

"That will need healing salve. We have some." 

"You... bit me, didn't you? I think Kili did as well." 

"Yes. It's common in Dwarf matings, but it doesn't usually leave marks like _that_." 

"My skin isn't as tough as yours. You'll have to think of me as a bit fragile, compared to what you're used to." She can feel residual stickiness on her skin. "I need a bath." 

"We all do." Kili joins the conversation. "There's a bathing-pool not far away." 

They pull on enough clothes to be decent, and gather up toiletries and clean clothing. The pool proves to be a small cove on the edge of the river, shielded from the worst of the current by a well-placed rock, with stretches of bare stone on each side, suitable for drying clothes or people. Fili strips quickly and arrows into the water in a long flat dive; Kili waits for him to come up and then does a "cannonball" jump, splashing water everywhere. 

"How deep is that?" Kelinda calls. "I don't swim well." 

"I'm standing on the bottom," says a chest-deep Kili. He holds up his arms. "Come on, jump in, I'll catch you." 

She jumps. The water is cold enough to take her breath away, but after a few seconds she's used to it. She swings her arm and sends a casual splash at Fili. 

"Oh, no, not _both_ of you!" he groans. "And I can't even dunk you, if you don't know how to swim!"

She grins evilly, and then suddenly drops beneath the surface – and Kili goes down with a yelp as she sweeps his ankles out from under him. It's a full-on splash-and-dunk fight for the next ten minutes, with Kelinda giving as good as she gets until she hauls herself up onto a rock, winded and panting. "It's... all right... in shallow water," she puffs. "I can float, and... swim a little. Just don't let me... get out into the main current." 

Fili grabs the soap. "Downstream side for washing," he says. "Upstream afterwards, for soaking and sunning." 

They spend a companionable time washing each others' bodies and hair. Now that she can see them in daylight, Kelinda looks at both of them straightforwardly. Neither fits the Dwarf stereotype of "as wide as they are tall"; Fili is shorter and stockier than Kili, but still no more so than a heavily-built Human man would be. Their bodies are sheathed in solid, well-defined muscle – and they are not even breathing hard after a scuffle that completely wore her out – and their skins are hairy but not pelted. They have a lot of scars, and she runs her fingers over them with respect. 

"Do you like what you see?" Kili asks, sounding unexpectedly shy. 

"Indeed – and what I felt last night as well!" She chuckles as Kili blushes to the tips of his ears. "You are a pair of fine strong warriors, to make any woman's heart proud." And now it's her turn to ask, "Do I please you?" 

"Very much so," Fili replies. "You are built like a Dwarf woman, with good wide hips for easy child-bearing and generous breasts for nursing. So many Human women are just... insubstantial. I don't have to worry that I'll break you in half if I give you a hug." He suits the action to the word. 

"And you have intelligence and cunning and spirit," Kili adds. "You were wasted in the city, with the limitations Humans put on their women. In Erebor, you will have authority." 

"I don't have a beard..." 

"Not all Dwarf women do either; that's one of those things like you said, that people will make up stories if they don't have answers," Kili responds. 

"Why do you keep your beard short?" she asks. It feels daring, but they seem willing to talk about personal things this morning. 

He laughs. "Have you ever seen someone with a long beard try to shoot a bow? Perhaps you noticed that both of the archers in our guard also have short beards." 

This makes so much sense that she feels silly for not having figured it out herself. There's a fond wistfulness in the way Fili looks at him which suggests that there's more to the story, but she doesn't want to push too far, too fast. 

They shift to the upstream side of the cove and climb out onto the flat rocks. "Now that we're all clean...," Fili says, and fetches the box containing their hair-clips, two combs, and a pot of healing salve from the bank. He twists Kelinda's wet hair into a tail and spreads the salve gently over her bruised and bitten shoulders. "Take note, Kili," he adds. "We will need to be more gentle in future." 

Kili and Kelinda work together to comb out Fili's hair and beard. Then he works on his braids while Kelinda combs and braids Kili's hair, and then Kili combs out hers. The sun is warm against their bare skins, there's enough breeze to keep them from sweating, and no one is in any hurry to get dressed again. Kelinda looks at the two Dwarves for a long time, admiring the way they complement each other – Fili's fair skin and bright hair glowing golden in the sunlight, Kili a black-haired, tawnier contrast. They don't look much like brothers, but she's seen that happen before with siblings. "My Sun and Shadow," she says softly. 

"If we are Sun and Shadow," Fili says, "then you must be the sunset that partakes of both." 

Kelinda gives an embarrassed wriggle and tries to think of something else to talk about. "Perhaps this is a silly question," she says, "but I heard something once that I've wondered about ever since. Is it true that the Khuzdul word for gold is _myn?_ "

Kili snorts. Fili buries his face in a hand, shaking his head. "That is a very old slander," he says, but his voice is resigned rather than angry. "I am sorry it came to your ears, and I trust you have more sense than to credit it. Our word for gold is _kidhuz_. Now, _I_ have heard that the word you were told is from Old High Dragon – but I don't credit that either." 

"You should have some braids," Kili puts in abruptly, bouncing up from where he's been lounging. 

"I agree," says Fili, looking relieved at the change of topic, and reaches into the box again. The two clasps he draws out are simple and elegant – plain silver with a twisted-wire edge and a rune carved into each one. "F for Fili, and K for Kili," he smiles, "and you may consider this your very first lesson in reading Khuzdul." 

They each work a simple side-braid into her hair, then sit back to observe their handiwork. "Much better," Fili says, "but gold will look better than silver with your hair." 

"Gold and emeralds," Kili agrees. "And I'm hungry." 

Kelinda realizes that her own stomach is growling. They dress and climb back up to the cabin, where someone has left a pot of porridge warming by the fire. The table holds three mugs of cold water, dishes and utensils, a stack of flatbread, and a small crock of butter. They fall to with a will. 

Outside, a much larger pot is hanging over the fire-pit. "Stew tonight, it looks like," says Kili. "I should see what I can bring in for it." He eats heartily but quickly, picks up his bow and quiver, and leaves. 

Fili doesn't seem to be in any rush. "Did you find the book I sent you useful?" he asks. 

"Yes, very much so. I will still need instruction, but at least now I don't feel as if I'm walking into this blind." She pauses, buttering a flatbread with entirely unnecessary concentration. "Fili... this is a rather personal question..." 

"What I said yesterday still holds. You may ask me anything." 

"Given that you and Kili have always been together... how did you, um, learn how to please a woman?" 

"Ah. Remember that Kili is younger; I came of age before he did, and before the bond manifested between us. I did, let us say, some experimenting. And now I'm glad of it." 

"As am I. You know, I loved Karl, and I've never wanted another man since he died. But this... just feels right somehow." 

"Strange are the ways of Mahal. We could have spent years searching for a suitable partner, and yet we'd barely begun to consider the notion when Kili found you; it is almost as if this was meant to be. And... yes, it feels right." Fili looks a little embarrassed at his own words. "I'm going to join the guards for sword practice. Will you watch?" 

"Of course." 

Watching Fili at sword-drill is an experience. He takes on the guards two and sometimes three at a time, and still comes out last one standing. Kelinda remembers his comment about Balin, and makes a mental note to be sure to watch _him_ drill sometime. 

Kili and the other archers come back to camp with a string of small game, which they hand over to the cooks. Then they too spend some time at sword-drill. Kili is not quite as good as Fili; he can beat any of the others one-on-one, but against two it usually ends in a draw. 

A little way off, some of the guards are practicing axe-throws against a convenient dead tree, and she walks over to watch that for a while. These are hand-axes, not the giant war-axes she's seen in the Great Hall at Open Court. 

"Care to try, m'lady?" asks the guard-captain. Kelinda is amused by the upgrade from yesterday's "lass", and suspects it has something to do with her new hair ornaments. She takes the proffered axe and hefts it experimentally, then holds it the way she's seen the guards doing and tries a throw. It gets barely halfway to the target before thudding into the ground. 

"Too heavy for me, I'm afraid," she says. "But I used to be pretty good with a sling when I was young." 

"Try this, then." The smallest of the guards hands her a sling and several stones. The technique comes back to her quickly; her first shot goes wide of the mark, but the second and third are square hits. She winds up again, but this time doesn't aim anywhere near the target – and a squirrel falls out of a nearby tree. The guards roar in approval, and one of them goes to fetch it. 

"Adding your share to the pot?" Fili's voice, behind her, is amused but not disapproving. He's apparently done with sword-drill and working on another mug of water. 

Kelinda shrugs. "Why not? It's useful." 

"Why not indeed? Our women practice with weapons also. You should have a sword, and perhaps a throwing-dagger." 

_And more stamina,_ she thinks. _But that will take care of itself, if I start doing sword-work._

Dinner is ready earlier than on the previous night. They call it stew, but it's closer to being a meat-and-vegetable porridge. All of today's fresh game has gone into it, and from the flavor there's also some salt-meat that came out of the packs, and spices. It's thick and rich and savory, and Kelinda manages most of two bowls before she is simply too full to eat any more. Night falls and the wind rises; clouds scud across the sky as the Dwarves sing. She sits, savoring a mug of ale and enjoying a deeper happiness than she's felt in years. 

When they retire to the cabin, she is paradoxically both more and less nervous than she was the previous night. Less, because an understanding has been reached; more, because she still feels a bit worried about saying or doing the wrong thing, and now she has so much more to lose. The process of undressing goes much as it did before, until they are all naked together... and then, in a moment of profound clarity, Kelinda realizes what she needs to do. It's easy to _say_ that she accepts the mate-bond between the brothers, but she must also show it by her actions. 

"Your turn." She steps out from between them and to the side to put Kili in the middle, claiming him again with a deep kiss. Fili catches on immediately, stepping in to press against Kili's back and bite down on his shoulder. Kelinda shifts position slightly and Kili's erect cock slips between her thighs; he's enough shorter than she is that there's no danger of accidental penetration, and she presses her legs together around him. 

She's not paying a lot of attention to anything but the way Kili's body feels pressed against her own, his chest hair rubbing against her nipples and his cock against her thighs, until suddenly he gasps. Kelinda may be a respectable widow, but she's no naive innocent; she's heard about the ways of men with other men, and she knows that Fili must be inside him now. She can feel the force of Fili's thrusts transmitted through Kili's hips to her own. The sensation is unexpectedly arousing, and she leans down a bit further to place her own love-bite on the shoulder Fili isn't using. Kili moans and squirms, and oh, she wants him so badly, but yesterday's objection still holds true. Instead she drops to her knees on the soft rug and takes his cock into her mouth. That proves to be more than Kili can take, and he gives a deep groan as he climaxes. Fili reaches his own climax a few seconds later, growling Kili's name possessively. 

There's a bucket of water and some rags in the corner, and once they can move again Fili uses them to clean himself and Kili off. Kelinda's body is buzzing with vicarious arousal and her legs are about to give way; she sits down right where she is. Fili's eyes meet hers, and he leans down to kiss her. "Thank you for this. And speaking of turns..." He scoops her effortlessly into his arms and carries her over to the bed, where he kisses and licks his way up the insides of her thighs until his tongue is teasing expertly at her crotch. Kili joins in, caressing her breasts and sucking on her nipples, and it's all she can do not to scream with the intensity of her orgasm.

***

Morning arrives grey, rainy, and much cooler. Kelinda, half-awake, listens to the rain drumming on the roof while snuggled warmly between her two lovers. _I could get used to this..._

Eventually Kili pats her hand apologetically and rolls out of the bed; he dresses quietly and steps outside. Fili is not even half-awake; he pulls her into his arms and snuggles his cheek against her back like a child with a rag-toy, and she drifts gently back into a doze. 

They wake when Kili returns with breakfast. "No sign of it clearing up any time soon," he says as they eat. "We might as well pack up and head back." 

Packing is quickly accomplished. The ride back is more subdued than the ride out, mostly because of the weather, which ranges from drizzly and dank to soaking rain. Kelinda is glad of her heavy cloak, which keeps her mostly dry and reasonably comfortable. Much of her time is spent discussing the logistics of moving her into the Mountain with Fili and Kili. 

"You don't have to sell the house," Fili says. "We have other rental properties in the city, and can easily find a tenant." 

"But you should bring all your personal belongings, and any furniture that you want to keep," Kili adds. "There's room for it." 

"Including all my books?" Kelinda asks. "They take up a great deal of space." 

Kili laughs. "Great Aulë, you haven't seen the Consort's quarters! There is enough space to keep everything in your house, should you so choose." 

"Perhaps we should show her. We'll be back in good time," Fili says.

***

Looking around the space which will be allotted to her, Kelinda gapes in astonishment. Rather than the simple bedroom she was imagining, this is a full suite – a large parlor for entertaining, a smaller one for private relaxation, a bedchamber twice the size of the one in her house, and a bathing-room with actual hot and cold water laid on in taps and a tub which will be luxurious even for a Human. The furniture is heavy wood, richly carved and decorated with fine stone inlay; there are thick rugs on the floors and silk sheets on the bed, with heavy sleeping-furs on top. She notes a door on the far side of the bedroom, which must connect to Fili's bedchamber. There is indeed enough room for all the furniture in her house, but she doesn't need most of it – and it will probably be easier to rent the house as lodgings if she leaves as much as she can.

"Does it suit you, m'lady?" Fili asks. 

"Oh, yes! But there is one more thing I will need. Humans aren't meant to live away from the sun for days or weeks at a time. A house like this in the city would have what's called a solar – an upstairs room with large windows. Many women do their fine needlework in the solar, because the light is better than lantern or firelight." 

"Hmmm. There is nothing like that here; we have no such need for sunlight, and the walls of the Mountain have always been our security. Let me think on this, and consult with our builders. I am sure something can be arranged – although it will not be directly connected to these rooms, which are in the very heart of the Mountain." 

"That's all right, I can walk," she says.

***

When Kelinda gets home, she is plunged into planning – separating her possessions into those she will take with her, those which will be left in the house, and those which will be discarded or given to charity for distribution among the poor. Her neighbors are understandably curious, but she says only, "I am moving into the Mountain; they need me there." If people want to assume that her lore-knowledge or organizational skills are what are needed, she's not going to tell them any differently – they'll find out soon enough anyhow.

Every afternoon a Dwarf scholar comes to tutor her in the responses she will have to make during the adoption ritual. Kelinda has picked up a little Khuzdul here and there, as many people do in the city – or so she thinks. The scholar, Gruna, is quick to disabuse her of this notion. 

"What you have learned is only trade-talk," she says. "The ceremony is in formal Khuzdul, which is very different. Fortunately, all you have to do is memorize the necessary responses." Gruna is a friendly but severe taskmaster; she insists that Kelinda not only learn the phrases, but be able to pronounce them with as little accent as possible, and with the proper emphases. 

Kili brings the rest of the Company down to the tavern on Market Day, and they take over most of the common room. Kelinda is taken aback. "Kili!" she hisses, "Didn't it occur to you that I might want some _warning_ before having to meet your entire family?" 

"Uh... I'm sorry, I should have thought –"

He looks so abashed that she can't stay angry. _As well blame the wind for blowing,_ she thinks. "Never mind. Jump in, and you'll catch me?" 

"Yes." His smile is back, looking relieved and apologetic at the same time, and he introduces her around. She pulls her memories of the camping trip around her like a cloak, standing straight and proud to meet those with whom Fili and Kili have traveled, suffered, risked their lives for and beside, a family as close as any blood-kin. 

It's easier than she had expected. They all seem inclined to be friendly; even Dwalin's legendary brusqueness is softened by a smile and a comment about looking forward to seeing her at sword-drill. Ori offers to tutor her in written Khuzdul, Bofur to take her on a tour of the mines ("You'll want to wear old clothes; it can be muddy down there."). Bombur describes some of the special dishes he's preparing for the feast. Dori mentions wanting her input on matters of trade. She knows enough about them all from her conversations with Kili that she has no trouble finding things to talk about with them. 

The last introduction is different – a hawk-nosed woman with ice-blue eyes, tall for a Dwarf, her dark hair and two neat beard-braids going grey; the resemblance to Thorin Oakenshield is unmistakable. Rather than bowing, Kelinda sinks into a deep curtsy. "At your service, m'lady Dis." 

"And I at yours." The other woman gives her a long assessing look, which Kelinda meets squarely; finally, slowly, she nods. Kili has withdrawn slightly, leaving them space for a private conversation. 

"I am sorry for your loss. Thorin was a good man, and he would have made a good King." 

The sharp gaze softens slightly. "It was not meant to be, but I thank you." 

"You have two fine sons. It was not Thorin's hand alone that shaped them." 

Given the opening, Dis comes directly to the point, Dwarf-fashion. "The path you have chosen is one which few would tread. Can you be content so?" 

"My life was comfortable enough, but without direction," Kelinda responds. "Your sons have given me purpose and direction again; more than that, they have given me back the joy I thought buried in my husband's grave. I will gladly join my path to theirs." 

And, finally, Dis smiles. "Then I shall be pleased to call you daughter." 

The party goes on well into the evening, and drinks the innkeeper out of his best ale and nearly out of his second-best. Kelinda, keeping up with the toasts, drinks considerably more than usual, and has to be escorted home by both Kili and Glóin , half-carried between them. She doesn't actually remember going to bed, and wakes with a headache that feels like a Warg chewing on her brain and the resolve never to try to match with drinking Dwarves again. Oddly, her lesson with Gruna that day brings a breakthrough on the last few phrases which have been defeating her. _Right,_ she thinks, _Khuzdul was created by people who are frequently drunk or hung-over. Of course it's easier when I am too._

The day before the ceremony, a troop of Dwarves with a baggage-wagon descend on the house under the direction of Nori, who has also brought Sharra down from the stables – Kelinda has been told that the mare is hers now. Everything she has packed to take with her is loaded up, and the few pieces of furniture that she is taking (mostly her bookcases) as well. She takes one last long look around the home she shared with Karl, and then mounts Sharra and rides toward her new life. She does not look back.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning she dresses neatly but plainly as she has been instructed to do, and spends most of the time until Court arranging her new quarters. The bookcases and her reading-chair and table are already in the small parlor, but the books must be unpacked and shelved, her clothing stowed in the wardrobes – there are two, one empty, the other containing several outfits in the Dwarven style – and dresser, her personal knick-knacks placed where they will show to advantage. Despite keeping herself busy, she cannot help fretting over the ceremony to come, and worrying that she will make some egregious error and shame them all. 

By the time Kili comes to escort her to the Great Hall, she is literally shaking with nervous tension. "Kili, please – find me some ale." 

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes. I don't need much, but it will keep me from freezing up during the ceremony. Please." What she does not tell him is her hope that it will also help her pronunciation on those last few tricky phrases. 

A passing servant is sent to the kitchens, to return with a small mug of ale. She gulps it down in a draft, then pulls herself together and nods to Kili. "I am ready." She looks at him as they walk. His robes are a rich brown, accented with bronze and dark green, and the jewels of the Crown Prince's coronet and chain that he wears are sun-colored golden topaz. She has always thought him beautiful, but today he is breathtaking. 

They emerge into the Great Hall via the private doorway behind the throne. Rather than the mix of Dwarves, Elves, and Humans (with a sprinkling of other races) that she is used to seeing, the audience today is entirely Dwarves, and business is being conducted in Khuzdul. Kili listens for a moment and nods. "Good. He's making the announcement now, and it will be time for us in a minute." As Fili continues speaking, Kili provides a low-voiced summary of what is being said. There comes a pause in the oration. "Now," Kili says, and leads her forward to the side of the throne. 

Kelinda has never seen Fili look so kingly. He is dressed in dark blue and cloth-of-gold, and the aquamarines in his crown and chain match his eyes. He takes her hand. "Mistress Kelinda, is it your will to be adopted into the House of Durin and become the Consort of Erebor?" he asks, in the Common Tongue. 

"Yes," she answers in the same language. 

He begins to speak in Khuzdul, and for a moment Kelinda is lost, her mind a blank. Then she looks out over the audience and sees Gruna in the front row – and she is mouthing the words to the adoption oath as Fili speaks them. Suddenly it's just like sitting in her front parlor going over the lines again and again; Kelinda knows the responses and speaks them firmly and easily. At the end of the oath, a roar of approval goes up from the crowd, and Gruna smiles. 

_I must have gotten it right._

Now come the ceremonial gifts to the Consort. Kelinda is stripped to her chemise and re-dressed in fine robes of Dwarf style, dark-green heavy silk with gold accents. She receives a sword made to her strength and stature, and a sword-belt to go with it, and a lovely throwing-knife. Fili hangs a beautiful chain of gold and emeralds around her neck, and then he and Kili formally braid her hair and fasten it with matching gold-and-emerald hair-clasps. Last, Fili places a narrow circlet of braided gold and emeralds on her head. When it is all done, she is presented to the Court as Kelinda of the House of Durin, Consort of Erebor, and the volume of the response makes her actually step back a pace – it's like being hit with a solid wall of sound. 

As they exit the Hall, she is swept up in a three-way hug. "Congratulations, my Consort – you were magnificent," Fili says. 

"Mahal bless whoever thought to put Gruna there in the front! I don't think I could have done it without her." 

"There's actually one more gift for you," puts in Kili, "but it wasn't exactly something that could be brought down to the Hall." 

"Besides Sharra, you mean? Fili, I haven't thanked you for her yet. She's the best horse I've ever had under me, and her tack is simply exquisite. You are generous." 

"I am glad you like her – but no, this is something quite different. Come this way." 

They pass back by the Consort's quarters, down one hall and then another, until they reach a stout door. Kili pulls it open and gestures her through. "Your solar, m'lady," says Fili. 

The room has been carved out of a spur of rock jutting out from the side of the Mountain that faces the city. Floor-to-ceiling windows are set between pillars of undisturbed stone, giving a stunning semicircular view that seems to stretch halfway to Rivendell, and she sees that several of them have panes which can be opened to allow a flow of air across the room. There's a richly-colored rug on the floor; several chairs, a work-table, and a small settee have been arranged to take advantage of the light. Kelinda's jaw drops open in sheer amazement and delight. 

"You can bring in whatever you like to work on here, of course – needlework, music, books, anything you want," he continues. "I have to say that while I never would have thought of such a thing myself, it does seem like quite a pleasant place to spend one's time." 

"Imagine being up here during a storm!" says Kili excitedly. 

Fili raises an eyebrow at him, but Kelinda smiles. "I was just thinking something similar," she says. "I like watching storms – when I'm safe and dry indoors – and this would be a marvelous place in which to do so." She moves over to one of the chairs. "Please, m'lords, let us sit and relax for a while. I'm still recovering from the ceremony." 

They call for tea and remain in the solar, admiring the view and not talking much, until it is time for the feast. At an event of this size, "the King serves" becomes more a matter of symbolism than of literality, for obvious and practical reasons. Fili speaks a ritual phrase to the serving-team for each of the tables, but presides himself over only the head table. 

Bombur has outdone himself; it is a showcase of many and varied courses. The main dish for the head table is a goose stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a rock-dove, stuffed with a quail, all deboned whole and cooked together on a spit with clean hot rocks inside to make sure it comes out done all the way through. (For the rest of the hall there's a larger version – a cow stuffed with a pig stuffed with a goat – that Bombur has told her takes three full days to roast, on a spit powered by an ox.) There is venison with a tart fruit sauce, and filets of beef split and stuffed with sharp cheese, and ham soup rich with carrots and onions. There are potatoes baked, split and scooped out, the shells lined with cheese and refilled with the innards mashed with butter, leeks, and mushrooms. There are large turnips hollowed out and stuffed with a mixture of ground meat and dried fruit, then roasted. There are half a dozen different kinds of bread, with butter and a soft sheep's-milk cheese to spread on them, and so many side-dishes that it's hard to keep track of them all. Kelinda samples each dish, but is careful not to eat too much of any one, lest she become stuffed before trying everything. The subtlety which ends the meal is a model of the Lonely Mountain itself, made of gingerbread and studded with candied fruit to represent gems, and is served with plates of fresh fruit and honey. There is ale a-plenty, and wine, but after the first mug of ale she requests water until the dessert course, when she partakes of the fine mead served with it. 

"Many meals like this, and you'll have to roll me down the hall," she says, and Fili and Kili laugh. 

After the feast there is dancing, with accompaniment of fiddles, bagpipes, and drums. Dwarves are fond of the livelier country-dances, especially those in which partners change each time through, and because of the numerical imbalance between men and women, a fair number of men choose to dance the female part. Kelinda loves dancing, and spins gaily from one partner to the next until she is breathless and giddy with exhilaration. 

Fili and Kili recapture her during the course of a trio-dance in which the women move from one pair of men to another, and steer their path directly to the door. "Am I the stolen bride of the tale, then?" she teases, laughing. 

"Indeed," says Fili. "And we the suitor and his faithful friend, come to carry you away." 

"But at least we don't have to worry about your father chasing us until dawn," adds Kili. 

They continue on, laughing and bantering, back to the Consort's quarters. "Now tell me," she says, leading them inside, "how much of all this finery do I have to wear every day?" 

"Well, of course, these are formal Court robes," answers Fili. "You have doubtless found the plainer ones in the wardrobe. The hair-clasps you can wear whenever you wish, but the chain and circlet are only necessary for Court." 

"You can wear your Human-style clothing too, if you're not doing anything formal as Consort," Kili says. "Everybody knows that Humans are _eccentric_ – and who is going to complain?" 

Kelinda snorts. "Well, in that case, I'm getting out of this and into something a bit lighter." 

"You might need some help," Fili says teasingly. "As much trouble as you had with the fastenings on _our_ clothes..." 

"And you don't have a dressing-maid yet," Kili adds. 

"We'd be happy to assist." 

"Oh, you two!" She laughs, and lets them accompany her into the bedchamber, where by an odd coincidence it seems that she does indeed need help with some of the fastenings. Fili complains of being too warm in his own Court finery, and eventually they are all undressing each other. 

When she starts to take off the gold-and-emerald chain, Fili reaches out and stops her. "Leave that on tonight. It is traditional, for..." he trails off in some confusion. 

"For the wedding night?" she asks. "Well, and so this is, effectively speaking. But you two have to leave them on as well; I refuse to be the only one so decorated." 

"That is also traditional," says Kili. 

There is an awkward pause, as they all eye each other uncertainly. Kelinda breaks it, saying, "I don't know what the custom is now." 

Fili and Kili look at each other with identically nonplussed expressions. "Neither do we," Fili says. "It's not exactly the sort of ritual which would be written down for future generations." 

"You obviously had some idea of what you were going to do in the cabin," she points out. "Perhaps we should just pretend we're back there." 

That breaks the impasse, and shortly they are snuggled together on top of the sleeping furs, touching and exploring each others' bodies as they had done the first night in the camp. Kelinda revels in the feel of their skins against her own, the brush of their hands and lips across her shoulders and breasts and thighs, the press of their erections against her. Her body is afire with long-delayed anticipation, and she doesn't try to hold back soft sounds of pleasure as they touch her. She expects Fili to take precedence, but to her surprise he draws back after a few minutes. 

"As long as we both couple with you tonight, it doesn't matter who goes first," he says. 

She turns to Kili, who is looking unwontedly nervous. "Um... you'll have to show me... I've never..." 

"Never been with a woman before?" 

"No," he mumbles. 

"Have you ever been with _anyone_ besides Fili before?" 

"No." 

"It's not really terribly different – more an issue of positioning than of execution," she says. "You were doing fine touching me. Am I touching you properly?" Her hand slides down his flank to close around his erect member, and his breath catches. 

"Yes..." 

"Good." She explores his neck and chest with her lips, adding soft nips on his shoulders and throat while stroking him until she can feel the dampness at the tip of his cock which signals that he's ready. She has been ready for some time. She urges him up and into position between her legs, gently guiding him into her, drawing her knees up to give him better access. He slides all the way inside, and she moans with pleasure. 

He draws back a little, startled. "Are you all right? Have I hurt you?" 

"No! You feel so good. Oh, Kili, I've wanted you." 

"How can I please you?" 

"Just... move, the way you would with Fili. And if you need to close your eyes and think about him, that's all right." 

"That would be rude," he says, in an unconscious echo of Fili. He starts to thrust, figuring out the right rhythm from her responses, looking directly into her eyes. Kelinda lets herself sink into that dark gaze, caught up in the amazement of a reality that for so long she had thought would never be more than a dream. It's a bit awkward still, and her own level of arousal pushes her over the edge much more quickly than she would have preferred. She climaxes with a guttural cry, and her fingernails bite deeply into his shoulders, which sets him off in turn. Afterwards he settles onto her body, and then starts to raise himself back up again. "Am I too heavy?" he asks. 

"No – I like feeling your weight on me." She pulls him back down, cradling his head against her shoulder. 

Fili gives them a few minutes of relaxation, and then strokes his hand gently across Kili's back. "My turn, _nadad_ ," he says, and Kili rolls aside. Fili is already hard and fully ready. His cock is thicker than Kili's, and she gasps as he fills her. He is also considerably more skilled in technique, and her body begins to respond again. She wonders if he had calculated this in deciding to let Kili go first – but it doesn't matter. What matters is the way he moves inside her, building the fire along her nerves until he hits just the right spot at the right angle and she explodes in a second climax as strong as the first, crying out again in ecstasy. A few strokes more and Fili is done, dropping his head to bite her shoulder gently and press a kiss onto her collarbone before he withdraws from her body. 

Kili has gone to the bathing-chamber while they were occupied, and returned with damp cloths for cleaning up. He looks meditative. "That was... unexpectedly pleasant." 

"How so?" Fili asks the question that Kelinda is afraid to voice. 

"I thought it would be difficult to watch you with someone else. But it was... if we hadn't already... I think I'd like to do some experimenting." Suddenly he blushes. "No disrespect meant to you, m'lady! And I fear I did not pleasure you as well as I might have." 

"Give it time," she responds. "It gets better with practice, like anything else. And I'm certainly not complaining." 

"Watching the two of you was definitely an interesting experience," Fili says. "Seeing you from a completely different perspective... it stimulates the imagination. I rather look forward to doing it again." 

"And there are all those alternatives as well. We will all have to practice regularly." Kelinda's voice is nearly a purr, and she pulls both of them down to the bed with her.

***

Over the next few weeks, they develop a routine. Fili and Kili come to her several nights a week. Kelinda does not venture into their bedchamber, feeling that they need some private space to be together. She interviews several women who are interested in being dressing-maid to the Consort, and chooses a young woman named Freya, who is friendly and competent – and who provides a wealth of resource on local customs, information, and flat-out gossip, without being too obviously taken aback by Kelinda's questions. Freya is also one of the Dwarf women with little or no beard, and Kelinda finds that unexpectedly comforting.

Fili has to be up and about early, so breakfast is usually her private time with Kili, in her small parlor. Neither of them is at their best in the morning, and they both take comfort in having a fellow sufferer who doesn't expect mental agility or sparkling conversation over porridge and breakfast-meats. 

Lunch, when possible, is her private time with Fili, in the small parlor in his rooms. Sometimes they speak of politics, sometimes of other things, often of both. She comes to realize that he and Kili are really very much alike, although the difference in their outer personalities tends to mask this. _It is no wonder that they ended up bonded,_ she thinks. _They are nearly one soul in two people._

Dinner is taken in the dining hall. On ordinary days, it is generally served buffet-style over the space of two hours, so not everyone is there at once and seating is informal; this is one of the times when Fili's subjects can approach him just to talk, as one Dwarf to another. After dinner, sometimes there is entertainment; other times the Company meets in private – this is half private party and half informal Council meeting, a place where ideas can be broached off the record and words dropped into the ears that need to hear them. 

Three mornings a week, she goes from breakfast to sword-drill. As she is learning only basic competence and self-defense rather than warrior training, Dwalin assigns her a regular tutor – the guard with the sling, whose name is Ulrika. (Kelinda is embarrassed not to have noticed that this guard was female, and resolves to be more observant in future.) For the first few weeks her muscles protest the training fiercely, and she drinks willow-bark tea and spends a lot of time soaking the soreness out in the tub in her bathing-room, but eventually her body adapts. She also works with her throwing-dagger, learning how to gauge distance and hence the angle at which she needs to launch the blade to make it strike point-first, and with the sling as well. 

One day after drill, she is privileged to watch Dwalin and Balin sparring; she gathers that this is an occasional and much-anticipated event. It is all she had expected and more – they move so fast that her eyes can hardly track them. Then they take on a dozen opponents, hand-picked from among the best warriors, in a melee free-for-all, and take them all down; the last opponent standing is awarded a silver chain, and cheered by everyone in the room. 

Ulrika is also her assigned escort and bodyguard when she wants to go riding, which she does regularly in order to build a rider's bond of trust with Sharra. They range for miles, as Kelinda wants to improve her familiarity with the areas near the Mountain and the nearby farming communities. 

Her primary public duty as Consort is to attend Open Court, where she now has a chair on the opposite side of the throne from Kili's. She listens to the petitions, especially from Humans, and sometimes offers advice or suggestions. As she and Fili get to know each other better, more and more of her suggestions find favor – she is learning how to think like him, and to bridge the gap between Dwarf and Human thinking. 

The rest of her days, during the first few weeks, are spent either riding or familiarizing herself with the interior of Erebor. She walks the halls, working out from the pathways she knows until she can find her way to the solar, the Great Hall, the dining-hall, the Archives, the infirmary, and the kitchens without getting lost. Along the way, she meets people, and starts to associate names with faces. They all know who _she_ is, of course, but they are patient with her taking some time to get everyone straight. 

Sometimes it almost feels _too_ easy. She says as much to Freya one afternoon. "You'd think there would be at least a few people who would dislike or resent having a Human for Consort." 

"Not necessarily. Remember, your children are the future of Erebor. Everybody knows about Fili and Kili, and why Fili had to look elsewhere for a fertile Consort. You would have to be a fairly unpleasant person for anyone to actively dislike you, and you're not. You're nice to people, you work with us, and you're clearly trying to fit in here. That goes a long way toward removing resentment. Most people wish you well, and the rest are neutral." 

Kelinda grins. "What, not even any jealous Dwarf-maidens pining for Fili or Kili?" 

"Pining, yes, there are a few of those – and who can blame them? Jealous, no, because even if you weren't here, they know there would be no chance for them. The worst I've heard is some grumbling about what a waste it is for the two handsomest Dwarves in Erebor to be bonded to each other." She pauses for a moment, and then continues. "I think... _they_ think that Fili views coupling with you as merely a duty, and they have no idea that Kili takes any active part at all. I would suggest that you continue to allow them to think so." 

"When did you figure it out?" 

Freya raises an eyebrow. "I _do_ have eyes, m'lady... and ears as well. You might not have realized that my bedchamber is on the other side of your bathing-room, and loud noises from the bathing-room sometimes carry. Not that it's any of my business to tell tales." 

Kelinda blushes, remembering the experiment to which Freya is probably referring. "Yes, well. Thank you for your discretion, and I will take your advice." 

She takes Bofur up on his offer of a mine tour and spends a day in her oldest tunic and trews with her hair tied back by a scrap of leather cord, crawling around the bowels of the Mountain to see where they dig the gems and ore, and getting so muddy that she has to stand fully-clothed under a sluice as the miners do before she is in any fit state to walk the upper halls again. Bofur is delighted by her interest, and gives her a bagful of rough-polished gems as keepsakes. Freya is appalled by the condition in which she arrives back at her quarters, and gives her a scold for not taking a change of clothes down to the mine with her. Kelinda is nearly late for dinner that day because it takes three full washings before Freya is convinced that every last tiny speck of mud is scrubbed out of her hair and she is allowed to leave the bath. 

Having seen the mines, she decides to view the forges as well, and after that the artisans' studios. Something about the combination sparks an idea in her brain, and she returns to the forges to consult with Erun, the chief armor-maker. 

"Could I borrow one of your ringmail-making journeymen for some lessons?" 

"I don't see why not – but I'm not sure your wrists are strong enough for that work. Even with pliers, it takes a lot of torque." 

"I don't want to make armor. I want to work with fine-gauge wire rings in smaller sizes, and see if I can make jewelry." 

"Jewelry?" Erun raises an eyebrow. "That could be interesting. I wouldn't have thought anyone would want to wear something that looks like armor, though." 

"The patterns are pretty; I think they'll be quite attractive done in smaller scale. But I won't know until I try, so I need to learn how to do them." 

"What will you need in the way of tools and equipment?" 

After some discussion, she has a kit on its way to the solar – several pairs of pliers sized for her hands, a small anvil and leather-covered hammer, a supply of rings in fine copper and bronze wire, some uncut wire, and a cutting tool. A journeyman named Hallika, who is intrigued by the concept, volunteers to meet her there one afternoon a week for lessons in ring-working. 

She begins to spend more time in the solar, reading or practicing mail-making, and lets it be known that she welcomes visitors there. Her first visitor is Ori, armed with chalk and a set of small slates on which can be written individual Khuzdul runes, and then simple words, so that she can learn to recognize them. From those she moves to teaching-scrolls meant for young Dwarf children. 

There are several bards who visit frequently to play music for her, which she enjoys. Sometimes people come to talk to her about things Fili should know, or to ask whether it would be a good idea to approach him about something. Occasionally Dis comes by just to bear her company for a while. When the weather outside is stormy, Kili always shows up, and they spend some time cuddling on the settee and watching the lightning. She starts to feel that she belongs in Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rock-dove is a pigeon when it's in the country. 
> 
> The "stolen bride" to which Kelinda refers is a folk-tale. There was a maiden whose father found her choice of suitor unacceptable, so she arranged for the suitor and his best friend to "abduct" her from the trio-dance at the Midsummer festival. They rode fast and hard, pursued by her father, until the sun came up. At that point she had been with her suitor the night long, and her father had perforce to let them be married. Although it's a Dwarf tale, the Humans of the area are familiar with it also because of their long association with the folk of the Mountain. 
> 
> The trio-dance itself is the Russian Troika: http://www.rrojas.com/5/pe/troikadance   
> Traditionally it is danced by one man with two women, but reversing the genders makes much more sense for a Dwarf community.


	5. Chapter 5

" _Makalinh_ , you haven't eaten a bite," Kili says in mild alarm one morning. "Is something wrong?" 

"No, something is right, _sanaskad,_ " Kelinda answers, smiling. "The Heir is on the way." 

"Then you need to be eating! Here, let me get you some ham—" 

"Mahal, _no!_ Believe me," she goes on more quietly, "it is _not_ a good idea for me to be eating right now. By lunchtime I'll be fine." She takes another sip of her tea – which Kili now notices is in a separate pot. 

"What are you drinking?"

"Ginger and herbs, to settle the stomach. It's a Human thing, in early pregnancy, and will pass in a few more weeks." 

Kili digests that for a minute. "Does Fili know?" 

"Not yet. I was planning to tell both of you after dinner tonight, but you've caught me out. I hadn't wanted to say anything until I was sure." 

Fili, informed over lunch, is ecstatic. He quickly sends for Neija, the head Dwarf midwife, and makes arrangements for her to have regular consultations with the best Human midwife from the city. 

"You must appear at Dwarf Court tomorrow," he tells Kelinda. "You should be present when the announcement is made." 

"Must we announce it right away?" she asks. "I had hoped to wait another month or so – after all, I did lose Karl's babe." 

"You were bereaved and ill, under stress," he responds. "I will not allow that to happen to you this time. You will be safe." 

Kelinda sits back and looks at him very hard. " _Sanûrzud,_ " she says, "I will not allow _you_ to wrap me in cotton-wool. I promise not to over-extend myself, but if you try to mew me up here, I will go mad – especially since I have no idea how long this pregnancy is going to last. I know Dwarf pregnancies run for several months longer than Human ones. You must trust me to pay attention to my own body, and to continue to do what I can while this is going on." 

"Very well, then – but in turn, you must trust me in this. The announcement _must_ be made this week. It is customary." 

The following day, Kelinda dons all her best Court finery for the first time since the adoption ceremony and joins Fili and Kili at Dwarf Court. As before, Kili provides a running summary of what Fili is saying. The announcement of an impending Heir is received with a roar of obvious joy that rivals the one which greeted her presentation as Consort. 

"Please tell me there's not another grand feast in honor of this," she mutters to Kili. 

"No, that won't happen until the day after the birth," he replies, "and you don't have to take part in it – there will be a separate, smaller dinner for the Council and Ambassadors a week or two later, when you have recovered from the lying-in, and that will be your first formal appearance." 

That evening she presents Fili and Kili with gifts – bracelets made of rope-mail, bronze for Fili and copper for Kili. She has one also, of both metals mixed in an attractive pattern. 

Fili examines his closely. "This is excellent work," he says. "Can you teach others to do it? New trade-goods are always welcome." 

"I'm still learning how myself," she answers, "but I would think any competent mail-maker could do just as well. Hallika – the journeyman who is teaching me – is certainly interested, although she's more used to working with armor-weight wire. And any of the wire artisans should pick it up quickly." 

"It's a pretty fusion of Human and Dwarf ideas," Kili says. "I knew we were choosing well."

***

For the first few months, very little changes except that Dwalin informs her firmly that she is off sword-drill for the duration. "You can still practice with throwing-knife and sling, and work out against the pells to keep up your arm strength. But there is simply too much risk of a mis-aimed blow or a fall for you to spar," he says. This strikes Kelinda as a sound precaution. She also curtails her riding, doing most of it in the immediate vicinity of the Mountain and the city rather than ranging out into the countryside.

As her body thickens, she cuts back further on riding and other physical activities, spending more time in the solar with her books and chain-jewelry. Her balance is off, and her back and feet hurt almost constantly; anything that takes her mind off the peculiarities in her body is good. She sees the midwives regularly, and has a constant supply of an herbal brew approved by both of them – a combination nerve-soother and nutritional boost. Fili and Kili take to rubbing her feet and legs every night, which helps her swelling ankles. 

"The two of you should go spend a day or two at the cabin," she says one evening during the process. "It's been too long since you had any time for yourselves." 

"Why do you say that? We have _all_ of the nights, since you have ejected us from your bed," teases Fili. More seriously, he continues, "Besides which, I would not be comfortable being so far away from you if there were to be any sort of emergency." 

She nods. "That's a reasonable point. But I want you to promise me that once the babe is born, you _will_ take a few days off. I can see the stress of being King wearing you down. You need a break." 

"At your service, _makalinh,_ " they say in unison, bowing, and Kelinda throws a pillow at them. 

As she moves into the late stages of pregnancy, she discovers that it's easier for her to sleep in a half-seated position, and requisitions a single-armed lounging-couch for her bedchamber. She seems to require a great deal of sleep, which worries her until the midwives reassure her that it's normal. Most nights she excuses herself from any post-dinner activities and returns to her quarters to read. Freya plays the harp – not at the level of a bard, but quite well enough to provide gentle and soothing music, and this becomes a ritual. Kili often joins them, quietly keeping her company; some nights when she is especially uncomfortable he has her lean back against his chest and sings to her, and she is asleep in minutes.

***

Her first contractions happen during lunch. Kelinda and Fili are deeply involved in analyzing a complex political situation, and she doesn't notice immediately. When one is finally emphatic enough to break into her concentration, she stops mid-sentence. "Fili – it's time."

Fili escorts her to the birthing-room, which is just off the infirmary, and summons the midwives. He wants to stay with her, but is firmly sent off to the waiting area next door. "There will be nothing for you to see for hours yet," Neija says. "You can go about your business; we will call for you when the birth is imminent." 

"As if I could concentrate on anything else now," he grumbles. "I'll be right here." 

And indeed, very little happens for some time except for the arrival of the Human midwife, Arilen. They advise her to remove her clothing, and give her a short nightshirt and a longer wrap. Kelinda is so bored that she sends Freya to her quarters for a book, to read during the intervals between the contractions. As the hours wear on and the contractions become more closely-spaced and intense, she asks Freya to read to her instead as she paces the floor. 

There is a slow but steady gathering of women in the birthing-room – two female bards who have been regular visitors to the solar appear almost immediately, followed shortly by Gruna. Ulrika arrives mid-afternoon, Hallika a bit later, Dis after dinner. Arilen raises an eyebrow, but Neija reassures her. "This is our custom," she says. "Normally it would be the woman's mother and other female family members, to lend intention and support. But as Lady Kelinda has no blood-kin here, those women who have the closest ties to her fill the role." 

Despite drinking copious quantities of kingsfoil infusion, the pain is getting worse, and Kelinda is sweating, unable to concentrate on Freya's reading. The bards take over the task of distraction with cheerful music, and Freya makes a brief trip to the kitchens and returns with handmeals for everyone. Despite her best efforts, Kelinda begins to groan when the contractions hit. She is no longer comfortable walking, and settles on the lounging-couch. Neija and Arilen examine her periodically, and say that all is going well.

***

In the waiting area, Fili paces restlessly, his fingers fidgeting with the rope-mail bracelet. Kili joins him a short while later. "Everything will be fine," he says. "I've heard the midwives' reports – there's no reason to think anything unusual will happen."

"My mind knows that. My insides are less certain." 

"It will be all right. _She_ will be all right." He reaches out, offering reassurance. 

Fili leans into the embrace. "It feels... strange," he says. "Not the same as being afraid for you, but if anything were to happen..." 

"You care for her. So do I. She has become part of our lives now, our family, bond or no bond. Losing her... it would be like losing a member of the Company, in a way." 

"Yes." Fili gathers himself, shaking off the mood. "We must trust the midwives. They will do their job, and if Mahal forbid anything _should_ go wrong, the Healers can be here immediately." 

The gathering of women in the birthing-room is mirrored by the arrival of the remainder of the Company, by ones and twos as the news reaches them. "Sit down, lad," advises Glóin, the first to arrive. "You've got a long wait ahead of you yet." 

Fili alternates between sitting and pacing. Kili mostly sits, but jitters in place until Óin looks over and asks, "Why are _you_ so nervous, lad? It's Fili who's the father." 

Several of the others, a bit more aware of the nuances of the relationship, exchange glances, and Bofur says, "But it's going to be Kili's nephew – and they _are_ bonded, after all." 

Glóin snorts. "A good point. When my wife is upset about something, it... reverberates." 

Bifur and Bombur are the last to arrive, near the end of the dinner-period, and they bring baskets of food and several bottles of wine. Once everyone has eaten, it's back to waiting again. Ori has his knitting and Bofur his whittling, but mostly they just sit, making perfunctory conversation of the "it'll all be fine" variety. 

Just before midnight Dis puts her head into the waiting area. "Fili, Kili, she's asking for you."

***

Shortly before midnight her waters break; Arilen examines her and says it's time to move to the birthing-chair.

"It is also time to fetch the King," Neija says. "He must be here to witness the birth." 

Kelinda, in the throes of an extended contraction, manages to gasp out, "Both." 

Neija looks confused. Freya says, "I think she means that she wants both the King _and_ the Crown Prince." Kelinda nods vigorously. Neija raises an eyebrow but doesn't object. 

Dis volunteers to fetch them from the waiting area. When they return, she is smiling. "All of the Company is there for you, lending their intention as well. I believe that Ori is knitting a pair of baby booties." 

Fili and Kili move to stand on either side of the birthing-chair. She has shed the wrap and is now wearing only the nightshirt, which will not interfere with the process. The contractions are very strong now, and she is no longer attempting not to groan. She gropes for their hands, gripping tightly with each new contraction as though using them to anchor herself to reality. Ulrika moves to the rear of the chair, her strong hands massaging Kelinda's shoulders. 

Neija has seated herself on the little stool in front of the chair and is monitoring the progress of the labor by periodically inserting a careful finger. Suddenly she smiles. "I can feel the baby's head! Now, m'lady, you must push with each contraction. We'll have your child out here in just a few minutes more." 

Kelinda pushes, her back arching with the effort of it. Her groans rise to screams, and even in the seriousness of the moment Fili arches an eyebrow. "Who's been teaching her to swear in Khuzdul?" 

"I think the question is, who's been teaching her to swear _so well_ in Khuzdul?" Kili responds. "That sounds like some of Dwalin's more esoteric vocabulary." 

"That would be me," says Ulrika. "She heard me doing it when I spar with the men, and wanted to learn. I didn't think it would do any harm for her to know. And she's an apt pupil." 

Fili and Kili share a we'll-discuss-this-later glance. 

Kelinda's body thrashes one final time, and then slumps back into the chair. There is a wail. Neija's hands are busy for a minute; then she rises with a wrapped bundle in her arms, as Arilen takes over the duty of dealing with the afterbirth. 

"My lord King, I present your son! What is his name?" 

Fili, Kili, and Kelinda exchange a look and a nod. They have made their decision well in advance. 

"His name is Thorin," says Fili. He reaches out to take the babe. Kili strides to the window on the far side of the room and draws the shutter aside. Fili looks down on the crowd gathered below in the Great Hall. He raises his voice in a mighty shout: "Behold the Heir of Erebor, Thorin III!" The roar from below is little muted by distance as the Dwarves rejoice. 

Fili steps back; Kili closes the shutter again. Kelinda has moved back from the birthing-chair to the lounging-couch, and the front of her nightshirt is open to the waist. Fili settles the babe on her chest, and she guides the seeking mouth to a nipple. 

"Your child, my Consort. _Our_ child. Our hope." 

"Our future," says Kili. 

"The first of many, I hope." Kelinda smiles up at both of her husbands. 

One at a time, the rest of the Company is allowed far enough into the room to see baby Thorin. By the time they've all had a look, he has stopped suckling and dropped off to sleep. Freya takes the bundle from her arms, and Kelinda begins to doze off herself. 

_There is an Heir in Erebor. Thorin's line will not end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rope-mail is Byzantine chain. 
> 
> I know from nothing about pregnancy and childbirth; everything about that part of the story is derived from other reading and the Internet. If I got anything horribly wrong, please let me know. 
> 
> Khuzdul terms used, derived from the online Khuzdul dictionary at http://www.scribd.com/doc/98387422/Khuzdul-Dictionary-E-K-v01-JUN12:  
>  _makal_ – copper  
>  _makalinh_ – copper-lady (redhead)  
>  _nadad_ – brother  
>  _sanaskad_ \- shadow (as in shade, not the shadow of evil)  
>  _sanûrzud_ \- sunlight


End file.
